


I Don't Like Your Girlfriend (I Think You Need A New One)

by nsynclancefan



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Reality, Alternate Universe, Castiel - Pianist, Dean - Guitarist, F/F, F/M, M/M, Minor Character Death, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-25
Updated: 2015-01-03
Packaged: 2018-01-26 12:18:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1688126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nsynclancefan/pseuds/nsynclancefan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some secrets hurt after a while, like being in love with a straight man.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prolouge

It's hard to keep a secret. The longer it is kept, the harder it gets to keep. Well, for some secrets anyways. Some secrets a person can hold onto for a really long time without it effecting them, like having a mole hidden under the beard that has been growing since puberty. Others are a little harder to hold, like not being a virgin anymore.

Some secrets hurt after a while, like being in love with a straight man. 

He met her at his own private photo shoot. She was the model for him and he was a horny 23-year-old. The end result was crazy animal sex all night. How do I know? I had the honor of sharing a room with him at the hotel; sleeping in a bathtub sucks so I suggest never to try it. But that is just one of my many stories to tell. 

He is a few years older than me, but I am older than his younger brother. I'm gay, he isn't. I love a good fuck in the ass, he loves to put his dick into a pussy. And that pussy just has to be a model that even my sister sees as only good for a one nighter (and my sister has had plenty of experience with women to know.) Giant chest, tiny ass, long black hair, barley any make-up is needed to make her beautiful, and a tattoo on her lower back. I had to witness him licking it. 

I fix my bow tie in the full length mirror in his room before the wedding. I think back to when all my torturing started while I wait for him to get done in the shower. I'm sure his soon-to-be-wife has been up already for a few hours getting her hair done for her celebrity fairy tale wedding to the man _who should be with me._


	2. How I Became Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am still in that dream, trapped forever to endure heartache and misery.

Everything began back when I arrived home at 16 (going on 17).

Michael and Lucifer were shooting hoops in the driveway, Anna was off shopping (hanging out with her secret girlfriend), and Gabriel was in the pool. Since I was away at boarding school, I had no idea that a new family moved into our neighborhood. Apparently they were invited to the “welcome home barbecue” my family was throwing in celebration of my early high school graduation. 

My future obsession was just climbing out of the pool as I walked around our average-sized home to reach the backyard. He waved at me right when my eyes rested upon his figure. My heart began to beat wildly at the water glistening on his chest and face. I think I stopped breathing. I thought that the feelings rushing over me were only possible in fairy tales. I was in a dream and I did not want to leave. 

A younger boy with unruly hair popped up in front of me and knocked me back to reality. (I am still in that dream, trapped forever to endure heartache and misery.) “Are you Cas? It is awesome to finally meet you!” He stuck out a hand for me to shake. I obliged, attempting to look around his tall figure to see my fairy tale crush. It was a futile attempt for he was already inside. 

I returned my attention to the boy shaking my hand with fervor. "Um, nice to meet you. May I politely ask who you and that guy who was just in the pool are?” 

“Oh, shit. Sorry man. Probably scaring the crap out of you!” He laughed and rubbed a hand across the back of his neck “I’m Sam Winchester and the other guy is my brother Dean. We moved here a year ago while you were at school. Michael was our real estate agent, and once we moved in we were invited over for dinner. Dean flirted with Anna, but then she said she was gay and he shut up. Dean has been coached by Luci at the high school, and Gab likes having me over for some weird reason, so we are now, like, good friends I guess.” 

It would take me a few months to figure out that my flaming brother was (and still is) attracted to him. “Well Gabe is weird like that.” I smiled warmly Sam. “It is nice to have you over and I can’t wait to get to know your family. I am sure that I will grow fond of you and Dean, just like my siblings.” 

Sam gave me a toothy grin before dragging me off to meet his parents. I was distracted, however, for the rest of the evening by Dean, who insisted to stay in his swimsuit the entire evening and taunt me with his body. Once I had my first conversation with him, which lasted well past the end of the party, I fell for his personality – his warmth kept me from growing cold, his smile saving me from faltering, his laugh encouraged my own, and his crystal green eyes ( _oh his eyes!_ ) drove me to the brink of insanity. 

When I was in my bed that night, I calculated that I was in love – not the _lust_ love that most people my age are only able to conceive in relationships, but the love that only brings out the best in a person and makes them only want the best for others. 

He also gave me a massive boner that I had to relieve myself of before I slept.


	3. When We Became Best Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wasn’t open to anyone about my sexuality, but if they asked I told them the truth.

When Dean wasn’t in school or being coached by Lucifer in basketball or baseball after school, him and I would hang out. I’d help him with his homework – he was terrible at History and English, but amazing in his shop and science classes – and he would help me improve my social skills. I never had a friend before Dean, only a guy named Chuck who was my roommate at boarding school. We didn’t exchange numbers after we graduated, so it wasn't much of a friendship.

If Dean did his homework and I was satisfied with his work, he would drag me to games at the high school and social events in town. I was keeping my utter love and devotion to him buried deep inside at that point; whenever I saw him flirt with a girl, or get her number, or go on a date, or if I walk in on him making out, I would have to do some serious yoga and masturbating to calm my nerves. I was 17 – my libido was raging and I was vulnerable to stress. 

I never dated anyone, and Dean didn’t really push the matter. He would slip me some numbers of girls he thought I would like or make me do a double date once or twice so his date would actually go with him. Afterwards I would kiss the girl goodnight on the cheek and never speak to her again. I may have appeared cold, but some of them (I think) got the vibe that I didn’t swing their way. 

I wasn’t open to anyone about my sexuality, but if they asked I told them the truth. The first was Gabriel, who bluntly asked me if I was gay so he could give me his porn magazines when he was tired of them or not interested in the features. Publicly, I was disgusted at him and he would laugh, saying I would thank him later. Privately, I was grateful the magazines weren’t stained when I rifled through them late at night in bed while I jerked off under the sheets. (My bastard of a brother knows just what people need, even when they don’t know it quite yet.) 

Anna asked me when she came home for winter break, and when I said yes she gave me a few numbers and pictures of guys that were hitting on her the past quarter. I laughed and promised her I would put them to good use. Gabriel helped with some of the texts, but I kept the pictures with the magazines. I’m not proud, but those guys should have thought it through before giving a lesbian with gay brothers pictures of their naked bodies. 

Sam popped the question one evening while I was waiting for Dean to get out of the shower. We were going to a girl’s basketball game that featured Dean’s friend Jo, who was a junior. I only met her a few times, once with my sister who instantly began to flirt with Jo when she said that she wasn’t picky about genders. (I am pretty sure they had something going on long distance after that. Once Jo graduated, she went to the same college as Anna to be with her, and after one quarter she dropped out to join the military. When I asked Anna that Christmas about it, she said that they were destined for different paths, but when they were sharing one they were hand in hand all the way. She is a creative writing major, so she loves to make things difficult to interpret. I assume she meant that they were friends with benefits.) 

When Dean was getting dressed, Sam came over to me and asked me my sexual preference. 

I gave him a look of worry. “Why do you ask?” 

“Just… you don’t have to answer, but I get the feeling you’re…” 

I finished his sentenced with, “Gay?” 

“I am not judging you man! I promise, and if you aren’t its fine. I know guys who are like you that are like you in that sense.” 

I gave Sam a questioning look. 

“Wait, that came out wrong. What I meant was–” 

I put my hand on his shoulder. “Sam, chill. I get it. And yeah, I’m gay." I leaned towards him to whisper into his ear, "And no, I am not going to ask you out.” There was horror in his face and his shoulders became tense. I started to laugh and let go of his shoulder, and then he calmed down to give me an awkward smile. “Why the sudden interest?” I curiously asked. 

Sam rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous tick of his, and then ran a hand through his long hair, his other nervous tick. “Lets just say that it is nice to have a friend to go to about these matter when the need arises.” He quickly smiled at me and then scampered off to his bedroom. I realized the next time I saw him with my brother that he was going through a sexual identity crisis. (I am sure he is still in it. He is currently in a relationship with a lovely girl, Jessica, and is attending Dean’s wedding with her. She is a bridesmaid and he is a groomsman. I am sure Gabriel is the reason why Sam hasn't proposed after being with her for three years, one of which has been spent living together.) 

My eldest brothers found out when Gabriel answered a question intended for me. 

“So, Cassie, why no girlfriend?” 

“They don’t have the proper equipment for him.” 

I threw the book I was reading, Lord Of The Rings, at him and it hit him in the face, breaking his reading glasses. After a quick wrestling match, that I was dominating, Michael and Lucifer pulled us apart and told me they were fine with having all of their younger siblings being gay. “It leaves the female competition between Luci and I, unless the girl is bi, then we have to fight Anna.” Gabriel got me back for the broken glasses by putting up posters of naked men all over my bedroom wall. I made sure to act grateful to backfire his plan, but it only made him take it a step further. 

Dean found out when he came over one Saturday morning to take me fishing. I was still asleep – my alarm didn’t go off because someone unplugged it the night before – so Dean came into my room to get me going. One step inside and he swore so loud the neighbor’s dogs began barking. I shot up in bed and my brother came running down the hall with a green face mask on. 

“What the hell is going on?” Gabriel screamed. Dean spun around and shrieked when he saw his face. A look into my room and at Dean’s stunned expression sent Gabriel into a giggle fit. 

“Dean it is not what you think!” I yelled, scrambling out of bed to begin ripping down, with a slight tinge of disappointment, the nude male posters Gabriel had put up a week ago. 

“What the hell am I suppose to think? That one has my face on it!” He pointed a finger to a poster above my desk, which I knew was not there when I discovered the prank a week prior. When I looked at it, I screamed and threw a book, sadly smaller this time, towards Gabriel, and Dean had to dive out of the way to avoid being hit himself. The book landed square on Gabriel’s back and he stopped his laughing short with a cry of pain. 

“You are a dick Gabe!” I screamed, quickly running to the offending poster and ripping it down. Dean’s face was cut out and placed over the face of a very burley and hairy man with a cock big enough to choke an elephant. 

“I couldn’t resist! I can’t believe you didn’t notice it yesterday! I thought you could use that as your nightly jerking material.” 

Dean looked in horror at Gabriel and then at me, and I couldn't make eye contact with him. I was immensely embarrassed and was waiting for Dean to beat me up, or worse, leave and never return. 

“Dean, I swear to God I did not know! That fucker put these up as payback and I was going to take them down yesterday, but I got distracted and… and…” 

“Are you gay?” Dean asked. I froze my actions and looked at Dean. He wasn’t looking back in horror anymore, but was looking at the other posters still up in my room. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but I am sure it was disgust. 

“Yes?” I hesitantly replied. 

Dean looked at me for a second, swallowed hard, and then replied, “So I should start giving you numbers to guys instead?” Gabriel snorted behind him and quickly left to his bedroom when Dean and I shot him glares. 

I dropped what I had in my hand and walked slowly over to Dean. “That might be wiser, if your intentions are for me to actually get laid.” 

Dean laughed and I stared at him. His face did not reflect any horror, or shock, or anything negative for that matter. He was laughing and looked… happy. 

“Why didn’t you tell me before?” 

“You didn’t ask.” 

Dean put a hand on my shoulder and squeezed it quickly before stepping out of my room into the hallway. “Well, I couldn’t care less which side your on. Your brother and sister are gay, and it hasn't prevented me from coming over all the time. Besides, I am pretty sure Sam has a tiny thing for Gabe." He shrugged his shoulders as if he was stating basic knowledge. "I just wish he would go for someone more responsible than that loch ness monster.” 

I stared in surprise at Dean. I couldn’t comprehend what he was saying, but part of me wanted to think that Dean was actually hoping for me to be gay. I had been harboring feelings for him for months, and a piece of my heart wanted to think he had something back. 

“Well, go get dressed. You are not getting out of this fishing trip mister!” He pokeed a finger in my face and grinned, going down the hall and down the stairs. “I’m gonna make us some food. Is peanut butter and jelly good for you? I took a few beers from my dad's stash so it won't be a completely boring trip." 

It took me a few moments to reply. “Yeah, Dean. That sounds great.” 

The fishing was fun, despite the early hour and the cold, and we only had a few awkward moments that left me blushing and Dean in hysterics. When he took me home, he grabbed my arm before I could exit the vehicle. He made me look him in the eyes as he said, “You are always going to be my best friend no matter what your personal choices are. As long as you aren’t being a dumb ass, I’m good.” 

I smiled at Dean. “Thank you. That means a lot.” I paused, and then arched an eyebrow in surprise. “Wait, did you say I’m your best friend?” 

“Duh. What else would you be?” 

_Lover, boyfriend, fuck buddy._ “I just haven’t had an actual friend before, let alone a best friend.” 

“We all got to start sometime.” He nudged his fist against my jaw playfully. “You think we can get Gabe out of the house for a bit so we can put up pictures of naked ladies?" I snorted, glad for the change of subject. "Maybe we can put a cut out of Jo’s face over one of them. Good payback for putting my face on the wrong body type. I am so not that hairy." 

I hadn’t laughed harder in my life prior to seeing the look on my brother's face when he found his room defaced with boobs, pussy, and Jo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boredom and then [this](http://nsynclancefan.tumblr.com/post/87134458382/dean-it-is-not-what-you-think-i-yelled) happened. (SFW, but maybe a NSFW will appear in the future...)


	4. Tragedy Changes Paths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I foresaw massive medical bills, and so did Dean.

Dean graduated high school and had plans of attending the local community college to study mechanics. I had decided, after I discovered Dean was going to be a senior in high school when we first met, to take a year off to work and save money for I when I went back to school. I decided when I was at boarding school that I wanted to attend Harvard or Yale, but when Dean applied to the local college, I changed my mind and went there. It wasn’t like I was missing out on anything – the local school has one of the best ratings for education in the state, and I planned on majoring in art. I didn’t need a big east coast college for that.

Michael was not thrilled when he found out. He owns a real estate business in town, which he inherited from our father after his death. He was hoping I would join him in a couple of years, since I was the last one in the family to decide my fate. Lucifer became a school teacher and coach, and Anna was close to getting her degree, planning to help out Michael with some of the business when she graduated so she could have an income while she sought out other avenues. We all saw no hope in Gabriel ever working in a business environment. He dropped out of high school, got his GED two years later to humor his brothers, and then began bar tending. (He confided in me a few years ago that he is planning on buying the bar when the owner decides to sell, and then he is going to remodel it to be a more friendly environment to “our kind” of people. Guess Gabriel inherited something useful from Father.) 

That summer Dean and I made big plans for our college life and we looked forward to being able to spend more time together. Even thought we had different classes, we were able to make time in between so we could chat and have lunch together. I was ecstatic for the possibility of growing closer to Dean – I still had in the back of my mind the idea of us having a more _intimate_ relationship. 

Then there was the accident. 

Sam was driving his parents to the airport so they could visit some family when a drunk driver swerved into their lane. Sam turned the wheel quickly to the right to avoid a head-on collision, but he only sealed their fates. The on coming car slammed into the driver’s side and sent the car off the road into a ditch. It kept going and went over top the Winchester car before tipping forward and wedging itself between them and the ditch. Sam and his family were sideways, gas leaking from the engine, and the other car had its back end on top of them, its nose upside down. 

Just prior to help arriving, a fire began in the drunk driver’s front end. It began to spread to Sam and his family. When the firefighters arrived, it had engulfed the back end. Sam was pulled out through the windshield, unconscious and bloody with his back on fire. They quickly put him out before the fire could eat away more at his skin. The drunk driver’s car exploded and firefighters were forced to retreat until the fire could be put out. 

It was too late for Mary and John. Mary died on impact, or was near death after the car slammed into them. John attempted to use his body as a barrier to protect his son as the flames licked up the side of the car, but was soon overcome by the smoke and fell back into the flames right before the fire fighters got to Sam. 

The drunk driver escaped his vehicle before the fire began, running into the nearest field. He was quickly apprehended when police arrived and found him peeing against a tree with a cigarette in his mouth - the source of ignition. 

It was only an hour later when Dean and I reached to the hospital with Gabriel. When they told Dean the news, he became violent and attacked the doctor, screaming, “It isn't true! How could you say that? How can someone be so reckless and cruel? It isn't human!” Gabriel and I had to hold him back, but it didn’t take long for him to break down in tears. My first instinct was to hold Dean for dear life. I wrapped my hands around his body and put my face into his neck. He gripped my shirt tightly and sobbed into my chest, mumbling incoherent words. Gabriel disappeared with the doctor to see Sam. 

Sam had third degree burns on his back, which required special treatment and skin grafts. He suffered a massive concussions that require surgery to relieve the swelling. He went into a coma afterwards, and it was a month before he began to regain consciousness. Until that point it was unsure if he was paralyzed from the neck down, waist down, or neither. After a few hours, Sam was coherent enough to attempt moving his arms and feet. 

His left hand twitched, as well as his right. 

His legs didn’t. 

I found Dean that night drunk off his ass from the last of the alcohol in his home, the rest having been daily consumed to numb the pain of loss and dread. I quickly took him back to my house, after having to wrestle him to the ground as he slurred, “I don’t want this anymore. I can’t. Sammy’s done. We’re done.” I shoved him into a cold shower that he detested and forced him to drink black coffee, which made him throw up all the alcohol still in his stomach. I then made him drink water and take some medications before tucking him into my bed. When I stood to leave, he grabbed my arm and pulled me down next to him. 

“Please… don’t leave me,” he mumbled. His crystal green eyes shimmered in the moon light from the window and I saw tears streaming down his face. “I can’t… be alone.” 

I laid next to him and pulled his head to my chest. He quickly conformed his body to mine and passed out as I petted his head, humming my own tune and trying not to cry. 

Two days later, Sammy when back into a coma. After an extensive examination to determine the cause, it was discovered there was clot in Sam’s spine that must have been dislodged from his brain, which had a few minor clots that needed removal during his first coma. He was sent to emergency surgery immediatly after the cause was found. Panic swept over Dean as he waited for the surgery to end. I held his hand the entire time, and he refused to remove his hand from my knee until the doctor came to tell us the results. 

"We removed the clot and his vitals have began to regulate. He should be waking up within a few hours." 

His toes wiggled before he regained consciousness. _Small miracles do happen._ Dean ended up kissing me full on the lips when he saw his brother's toes twitch under the bed sheets. For a moment I thought the kiss was genuine, but he ended up doing the same to Gabriel before he ran out the door to get the doctor. 

"Too much tongue," Gabriel muttered. I held back my frustration and focused on Sam. _Some are miracles, while others are just lucky chances._

The Winchester parents were cremated and buried near my parents, since it was the best plot available. Sam wasn't able to go, but Gabriel ran a live recording for him. Dean held the urn containing his parents, and when it was time he placed it into the small hole reserved. As the military did their thing off to the side, since John was a veteran, I held Dean's hand as they covered up the hole. We went straight back to the hospital, and spent the evening with Sam and my siblings watching a classic movie on the tiny hospital television. 

Sam had his breathing tube removed a week after the funeral. It took him some time to gain his voice back after so long without speech. At first we thought he sounded bad because of that, but Gabriel was the one to hear his voice clearly, and pin point the cause as muscle damage. The doctors confirmed it - Sam had a speech impairment from the accident. Dean almost went on another binge, but I was able to get it through his thick skull that this damage was not permanent, and in time with the proper help he would regain control. Not only would he need physical therapy for his legs after that clot, but also for his communication. I foresaw massive medical bills, and so did Dean. 

I suggested he go home and take something to help him sleep, since that was nearly impossible for him on his own since his parent's death, but I didn't know he would down half the bottle. If Gabriel hadn’t gone to his house to get something for Sam, Dean would have drowned in his bathtub. Thank god the pills didn't do long term damage and he would just be asleep for a long time. I nearly strangled him for nearly killing himself when he officially woke up a day later. After my fit of screams, I ended up holding myself to his chest and crying. He rubbed my back and hummed something of his own making. He let me have my little hour-long break down; he was still in a drug haze, so he could handle it. 

It was at that point that Michael insisted Dean and Sam move in with us. Selling of their family home and the items not needed by the brothers would be necessary to pay the medical bills, and with Michael’s help he was able to get them a large amount. 

Once the brothers were moved in, Dean and I lost the closeness that we had been clinging to, along with the simple relationship we had before the accident. Dean was closed off to me, and I just let him be while I was torn up inside. He withdrew from the community college and took on a full time job at Michael’s work. Michael couldn’t give him a big position, but it was enough to help with the medical bills. Michael insisted he not pay for living expenses while staying with them, but Dean was too stubborn to accept help. It took Sam screaming at him incoherently a week after he got out of the hospital to get him to accept Michael’s help. I withdrew from college as well, taking on a full time job at the family business. Michael was pleased, but I could see in his eyes that he wanted me to be happy, and this wasn’t what would make me happy. 

A few months of daily physical therapy, with assistance from Gabriel who took leave from the bar to be with Sam. (For being a flaming bastard of a brother, when he loves someone enough he will put his all to it. Sam is that special someone for Gabriel.) Sam went back to school in September with a cane that Gabriel had me paint with flames and pink skulls, along with a slight stutter and slur. He was a sophomore in high school and with his disability the friends he had gained the previous year began to dwindle down to the few who would stay with him through graduation. It was hard for him those first few weeks back, and Dean being the great older brother decided to visit during both their lunch hours with pizza and pop, a way of showing the school that the Winchester brothers aren't to be reconed with. Sam didn't want the pity from his brother, but Dean wasn't doing it out of pity. Like with everything he does with Sammy, he does it out of love. He quickly banished the friends that were clearly there only for the food and allowed sharing with the rest, including Jo, who was a senior. Meg and Ruby were juniors, and Balthazar shared the same grade with Sam. 

If Dean approved, we all did. 


	5. A Party Of Transformation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He left his number on my nightstand when we finished, and I tossed it in the trash after he left my room.

We all had the honor to meet Sam's friends during a Halloween party that Gabriel insisted on throwing to celebrate our good fortune. 

“Wouldn’t Thanksgiving be more acceptable for that?” I asked him as he began to put fake cobwebs on our front porch. 

“Its too far away and this holiday has more candy and costumes. Besides, Halloween isn't as fake as Thanksgiving is.” 

“Whatever. Just don’t wear that nurse costume. Last thing we need is to have the cops show up for indecent exposure around underaged girls.” 

“I’m gay! What the hell would I do to them?” 

“Fine, underaged boys, one in particular.” 

Gabriel smirked and I went inside when a cold gust of wind hit. 

I was still in the distance place with Dean, who barley talked to me outside of meals and work-related business. It hurt me so much to see his life fall apart so much, his dreams being put on hold for his younger brother’s sake. It took my constant begging and Sam’s threats with his cane to get Dean to attend the party. I made a mental note to make sure he didn’t get ahold of any alcohol. He agreed with Michael to not touch the stuff until he was 21 for all our sakes, or else he would fire him. Perfect incentive – he still hasn't touched the stuff. 

Sam’s friends arrived before the party started to help set up. Meg, Ruby, Balthazar, and Jo livened up the place with their humor and wise cracks. Balthazar could give Gabriel a run for his money with his flaunty personality, but was straight. The two of them bonded quickly since they didn't have to compete. 

People from work and school came to the party – all somewhat acquaintances to at least one of the main members at the party. In all, there were around 30 people in the house. It didn’t take long for the adults to crack out the spiked drinks and a few of the teenagers got tipsy before Michael put a stop to their consumption. It was hilarious to see the most intimidating man in my life scold some rowdy teenagers while dressed as the tooth fairy. 

Lucifer wore his usual outfit – red horns, tail, and a pitch fork with his casual clothes made him the perfect vessel for Satan. Sam worked the mummy and almost tripped a few times on his wraps. I decided to throw a white sheet over myself with several holes in it, with a black sheet underneath that I could see through. I hid in the corner and was mostly ignored, which I preferred at parties. 

I was content until Dean showed up with his costume. I almost fainted seeing him in leather chaps, tight denim jeans, and a worn button up that had a few of the top buttons undone. His cowboy hat was tipped a bit to the side, and it didn’t take him long to find a woman honored enough to get a tip of the hat and a sauntering over to. 

I almost ran off to the bathroom to relieve my swelling groin as I stared at Dean's firm ass, but when he turned around I was spotted. He waltzed over when the woman shot him down for a werewolf. 

“That is the worst ghost I have ever seen,” Dean said with a snicker. "I am assuming it is Cas under there?" 

“Have you not seen Charlie Brown? This is a classic!” I stared at him offended, but I knew he couldn't see my face. 

“You know if you hooked up with one of the smaller dudes in the room, you could hide him on his knees under that sheet.” Deans winked at me and I held back a moan. Images formed of Dean giving me a blowjob in his costume while under my sheet, and my pants became extremely tight. I looked down and could see those crystal green eyes staring back up as a hot, tight mouth slid up and down my cock, taking me deep and running a tongue under the shaft and across the slit. 

I quickly swallowed and adjusted my crotch. 

“I don’t think that would be wise, Dean.” 

“Party pooper.” He walked closer to me and leaned against the wall next to me, staring at his brother as he talked with Gabriel – who wore his nurse’s outfit. I didn’t hide it well enough or he bought a new one. 

“Dean?” I turned my head toward him and he looked back. 

“What?” 

I got lost in his eyes and for a moment relapsed to my kinky dream, before snapping myself out of it to ask the question. “Am I still your best friend?” 

Dean turned away from me and looked back at his brother, who was attempting to run away from Gabriel who had a stethoscope in one hand and a tongue depressor in another. _I am going to beat the shit out of him if the cops get called._ I was startled out of my gaze when my sheet was being lifted up so Dean could look at my face. Thankfully he was only looking at my face because I still had a slight bulge in my pants. 

“What would make you think otherwise?” He looked at me with general concern. 

I am stunned from speaking as he stepped closer and lowered the sheet over us. My heartbeat increased and my breathing quickened as Dean stepped closer to me to adjust his body under the sheet. He removed his hat and dropped it to the ground, kicking it behind him. 

“You and I,” I had to swallow and regain my bearings. “We haven’t exactly talked or done much since…” I waved my hand around and accidentally brushed his chest. I was sure I felt a nipple, and I was sure it was hard. I was also sure that Dean slightly gasped at the contact. 

Dean looked at my face, studying me for a moment. “How did you loose your parents?” 

_Way to change the subject, Dean._ I looked into his eyes and saw concern and sadness – sadly, no arousal, unlike me at the time. My cock was straining against the zipper of my jeans, despite the topic brought up. 

I took a shaky breath and said, “My mom died of cancer when I was 5, and my dad had a stroke when I started boarding school.” Dean’s concern and sadness increase as he looks directly into my eyes. I took all my strength to withhold my urges of kissing him senseless. “It happened so long ago that I’m not really affected by it. I was sad when my mom died, and it took me some time to stop crying whenever I thought about her, but with my dad… well, we didn’t get along very much and I only cried when I heard the news. I went back for his funeral over the weekend, and then went straight back to school.” 

I hadn’t talked about my parents with Dean before, since he never asked, and it really doesn’t pain me when I talk about them. I missed my mother for the longest time, and I think that was what distanced me from my father. When he died, I was glad that our final words to each other were, “Have a good night,” instead of the usual, “Bye.” 

Dean dropped his gaze. “I’m sorry I was distance,” Dean mumbled under his breath. I continued to watch his face, registering all his emotions as they flickered back and forth. In the time I have known him, he hasn’t been able to keep what he was feeling from me. “I guess it was my grieving process, and dealing with what happened to Sammy.” 

“You don’t have to apologize.” 

“Yes I do! Your family has taken care of us since that day and…” His voice caught in his throat. He swallowed back a sob and wiped his eyes quickly before the tears could fall. “I never showed any gratitude for everything.” 

“But you have showed us!” Dean looked at me surprised. “You hide what you feel around everyone, but by doing so we can tell exactly what you are thinking by the way you cover it up. You’ve made us delicious dinners, you’ve cleaned the house, you’ve done the shopping, and have given us little gifts here and there just to see us smile.” Dean blushed and dropped his head, probably to stare at his ridiculous cowboy boots. “Stop apologizing for being a human, Dean. We all love you no matter what.” 

That was the first time I told him I loved him, even if it was indirect and for everyone else as well. His head shot up when I said it and searched my face as if to find any regret or shame for the statement. I made sure to show him the love I felt deep inside, and apparently it was enough for Dean to lean in and give me a kiss on the cheek. I withheld my gasp and instead smile. 

“Thanks, Cas. You are my best friend, and yeah, I love you too.” He tapped me across the chin with his knuckle, probably to end our feeling-sharing time in a manly way, before lifting up the sheet to get out. The rush of cool air was refreshing, but the hoots that came from onlookers were not. 

“We weren’t doing anything!” Dean yelled, picking up his hat and dropping the sheet back over me. “Now, which one of you girls want to do the hoe down?” 

Gabriel gave me a look from across the room that read, “You have such a boner for him.” 

I snuck off to use the bathroom a few minutes later, thinking shamefully about Dean’s mouth and his cowboy costume. When I came, a few tears rolled down my face. _At least we are back to where we were before this mess. But... I don't want to go back to that. I want to hold you again, Dean, and make you feel like number one. I want to kiss your tears away and show you how you make me feel._ I cleaned up and returned to the party, and hit a wall when I found Dean in a corner with a woman from work, whispering into her ear and rubbing her ass with the hand not supporting his body against the wall. 

My brain began to misfire. _Why the fuck did I give a shit about you Winchester? You have an intimate moment with me, leaving me a wreck, and then waltz off with some blond bimbo?_ I decided to do something I never did before that point, and never thought about doing except with one person. It was this moment when I surrendered to the fact that I was in love with a straight man, and if I kept going like I was, I would loose out on true happiness. _I won't get laid if I keep waiting for you Dean._

I found a young boy eyeing me from across the room, and his face read horny for me. He was suitable enough, even if he had red cheeks from drinking, which meant his judgment was lacking, but so was mine. I took him to my room with much haste and he didn't protest. I made quick work of getting us undressed, and the kid was more than willing to give me head. It wasn't the way I imagine my first time, but the kid obviously was experience by what his tongue did. I pinned him to the bed and sucked him off, but I had to stop moments in because he was about to come. I asked if he was a top or bottom, and after a quick stretching of his ass with my lubed fingers, I fucked him senseless into my mattress. He was rather pleased with my inexperienced performance - he came a few seconds after I got my cock inside - and wasn't too happy when I said Dean instead of Dan as I came all over his stomach. _Consider it payback for barley holding it in long enough for me to have your ass._ He left his number on my nightstand when we finished, and I tossed it in the trash after he left my room in his storm trooper attire. 

Everyone knew what we did when we returned to the party. Michael gave a shameful look, Lucifer and Gabriel a joking one, Sammy a furious blush, and Anna a concerned one. Of all the looks I received that evening, which were more approving than I expected for statutory rape, the one that hurt the most was the pride on Dean's face when he nudged me on his way into the kitchen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I keep fixing mistakes and adding pieces to make the story flow better. If you read the first 5 chapters before I posted this note, I'd advice you to go back and reread before you check out future chapters. Chow!


	6. Rewind To The Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You were very sick when you were born, and we prayed for you to stay with us. The next day you were healed, and we blessed you with the name of your guardian angel.

One of the memories I have of my mother was of her at the piano. We had a grand black piano in our sitting room, and that was where we would find my mother when she wasn’t doing busy with the house or the family. After Mother died, my father sold it. I assume it was too painful for him to look at, or it was too much of a reminder when he would hear me play. I sat at the piano every day after her death; when I was not eating or sleeping, I would be playing – it kept her close to me when she was so far away. When the piano disappeared from our lives, what relationship I did have with Father went with it.

Before I learned the piano, I would watch my mother from where I was seated on the floor with my toys. When I started to crawl, she would have to put me in a playpen so I would not go into the other rooms or mess with the piano petals as she played. When she wasn’t at the piano, and I wasn’t locked up, I would climb up onto the bench and imagine my mother sitting next to me, either playing the lullabies that sent me to sleep, or playing the classical pieces that would make me wiggle around in my diaper. I attempted to play some of her songs when I was big enough to reach the keys, but they never came out the way I thought they would in my head. My family thought so as well because I would be removed from the piano immediately after I started to pound on the ivory. Gabriel was quoted of saying, “Even the neighbor’s dogs won’t bark along to that.” 

My mother would play the piano every morning after she took my siblings to school. When I was old enough, she would let me sit next to her. She’d talk to me while I leaned against her side, telling me what song she was playing, who the composer was, and the history behind it. When it reached the point that I could sit on the bench and reach the piano keys at the same time, she started to teach me. (I am not a child prodigy, but my mother saw the gift for music within me.) She began with the major and minor scales, so I could learn the proper finger techniques and fluidity required for playing. I was a quick learner, which allowed my mother to move on to teaching me to read music. “If you remember the name of the note on the lowest bar for each clef, you will be able to know them all.” Reading music was much harder for me to grasp; the music I knew from the scales would not connect to the notes on the page. No matter what my mother did, I could not make the jump – my brain was probably too young to make the logical connections required to advance. 

Our lessons began to be spaced out when I began preschool, and even more so when my mother started to go to the doctors. It got to the point where I had to practice on my own because my mother was in the hospital. I stopped playing the piano altogether when my mother became bedridden. It was a few months before she discovered that I had stopped, and was upset with herself for failing me, even though the fault lied with her illness and my full-time kindergarden. 

Out of the blue during a summer week, she insisted we play the piano every day for an hour. I remember how weak she was, having to use my father or siblings as support as she moved around the house. My father wanted her to be in bed, but she would not have it. “I have to pass this on before I go,” she would say to my father whenever they got into an argument. I was grateful to hear her play again, but there was a clear difference in her manner from before. She looked ghostly and had a grim solitude in her eyes, such as one would have once they accepted their fate in life. When I wasn’t at school, I was next to her on the piano bench. 

“Do you remember the B-flat major scale?” 

“Yes mommy.” 

“Can you play it like I showed you?” 

“Okay.” 

She had me run all the scales everyday before she moved on to reading music. A new plan was developed to help me learn quickly – she would have me play the scales a second time, but while reading them on the music sheet. I was quickly able to associate the key on the piano with the music note on paper. I had the epiphany my mother was seeking so I could begin learning new songs. I believe it was because my brain was finally at the correct stage of development. 

It was a Saturday afternoon when I grasped my first song. It was the same song she played for me when I was brought home from the hospital as a newborn. She leaned against my small figure as I played the notes and gently sung the words into my ear: “Twinkle twinkle little star. How I wonder what you are. Up above the world so high, like a diamond in the sky. Twinkle twinkle little star. How I wonder what you are.” I was so happy afterwards that I ran around the house to gather all my family to hear me play it again. When they were all standing around the piano, I started to play the song, but I didn’t account for the fact I would have so many eyes watching me, and I quickly began to fumble. My mother had me stop, take a deep breath, and close my eyes. She placed my fingers on the keys and had me start over. I started out slow, but quickly regained my confidence to speed up and open up my eyes. I finished the song without error and had impressed my family enough to earn an extra scoop of ice cream with desert that night. 

It was that same night when I had to say good night to my mother, instead of her saying good night to me. He assured me it was only a one time event because she was very tried after my triumphant performance earlier that day. There was a rigid acceptance formed on my father’s lips and a deep sadness in his eyes when he took me to my mother. 

“You’re my little star, Castiel,” she whispered to me as I laid next to her on the bed. 

I looked at her, confused. “I thought I’m an angel?” 

“You are. The angels light up the night sky and twinkle down on us as we sleep. Your angel is up there every night and is always the brightest star on Saturday.” 

“Why that day?” 

“Because he watches over the earth on that day. We named you after him because you were born on a Saturday and he was the one that saved you from death. Cassiel is your miracle star.” 

“I died?” I asked, still confused. “But I’m living mommy.” 

She smiled at me and kissed my forehead. Her lips were dry and cold. “You were very sick when you were born, and we prayed for you to stay with us. The next day you were healed, and we blessed you with the name of your guardian angel.” 

“Cassiel saved me?” Mother nodded her head and petted my hair. I snuggled into her chest, holding her thin body tightly. “I love you mommy.” 

“I love you too.” She kissed my head one last time before Father picked me up and took me to my room. I watched her from over his shoulder as he took me from the room – she was crying. 

I was tucked me into bed and received a kiss on my forehead. “Why was mommy crying?” I asked as my father went to leave the room. He froze in the doorway. His shoulders began to shake and left my room, answering my question with light sobbing. I got out of my bed once my door was shut and went to my window, looking through the blinds. I prayed to the brightest star I saw. “Thank you Cass for saving me and watching over me. Please watch my mommy so she can get better. I need her to be better so she can keep teaching me the piano.” 

I ran to my mother the next morning to make sure Cassiel answered my prayer. My naive mind didn’t understand that not all prayers are answered with a yes. I found my mother alone in bed still asleep. I climbed up next to her and shook her body gently, telling her to wake up. I started to shake her more firmly when she didn’t respond. After that, I raised my voice. My father suddenly appeared behind me and lifted me off of the bed. He had covered my mouth to stop me from screaming, and when I saw his red eyes and wet cheeks, the fear that was growing inside me turned into despair. 

“Is mommy…” 

“She passed away some time in the night.” 

“Passed away? Where did she go?” 

“The angels took her to heaven.” 

“But the angels were to watch her and make her better!” 

“I’m sorry Castiel.” 

While my brothers and sister cried, I played the piano until my fingers were sore and my wrists were locked. It was my way of honoring my mother and apologizing in failing my prayer. I began to play new songs, and the only way I knew I was playing right was when Gabriel confirmed it for me by singing the lyrics. Whenever my father came into the room, he told me to stop playing. I obeyed when he was in the room, but began again when we left. The funeral and memorial service was held a week later. I didn’t know any of the people who came up to my family in tears and apologized for our loss. It didn’t comfort me in the slightest. I just wanted to go back home and sit at the piano. I was much closer to Mother there than at her grave. 

When we arrived home, there was a truck outside the house. Us children went inside while my father went to the men that were inside the truck. He came inside the house with the men trailing behind him and led them to the piano. They began to take it apart immediately. I screamed at them to stop and my father removed me to the kitchen when I started to attack them. I began to pound my fists against my father’s chest and cursed him for taking my mother away from me. “You killed her!” I screamed into his face. That was enough to make him snap. He roughly pulled me from his body and slapped me across the face. It was hard enough to snap my head to the side with a sickening crack. I stopped my fit, taken completely by surprise. My father has never laid a hand on any of his children prior to that moment. When I looked at his face, it was cold and distant. I would know no other face after that. 

I ran upstairs to my room when he let me go and locked myself inside. My vision was painted red with anger. I began to destroy my room – tearing down posters, throwing toys as hard as my small body could muster, and smashing all breakable objects. An hour into my tantrum was when I discovered the sun had set, revealing the moon and stars. I froze when I spotted the brightest star, the star that was my miracle and saved my from death. It was also the same star that took Mother away from me, instead of helping her like my prayer asked. Next thing I know, there is a baseball flying fast towards the window. “I hate you Cassiel!” I screamed as the window shattered, triggering the neighbor’s dogs to bark hysterically. I fell to the floor in hysterics, unable to control the emotions that racked through my body. At some point I crawled across the floor and under my bed. I used every bad word I knew to curse my father and the angels, and then begged them to bring her back. 

Time passed and I was unaware of it. At some point I could hear someone outside my door. It was Anna; she picking the lock on my door. She entered my room and I heard her gasp of shock at the mess and broken glass. She called out my name and I sniffled in response, my voice having gone out long ago. I saw her legs when she walked over to the bed, and then her face was level with mine. Her hand reached out to me. After a few moments I reluctantly grabbed it and was gently pulled out into the open. She held me to her chest and I clung to her with what little energy I had left. 

“Don’t hate the stars Cassie,” she said, her voice soothing and warm. _Just like mommy._

“I have to,” I replied in a horse whisper. 

“Why?” 

“They took mommy.” 

“Mommy had to go Cassie.” 

“No she didn’t!” I was about to pound into her chest with the last bit of anger inside me, but her arms tightened around me as she rocked me back and forth while humming. I quickly calmed down. It was a few moments before she stopped the humming and rocking. 

“Yes, she did,” she continued while rubbed my back. “It sucks, but she did.” 

I sniffled into her chest. “Why?” 

“Because it was her time. She was sick and in pain every day. She is now at peace.” 

“I’m never gonna see her again!” I would have cried if I had any tears left to shed. 

“Yes you will, you silly goose. Every night you can go see her.” 

I pulled my head from her chest and looked into her eyes. “What?” 

“When Cassiel took mom in her sleep, he took her up to heaven and to his star so she could watch over all of us.” 

I turned my head and looked out the hole in the window. “She is with the angels?” 

“Yes, and every Saturday you can find her in the brightest star.” 

I pulled my body from Anna and carefully walked over to the window, avoiding the glass and scattered items on the floor. "Mommy?” I looked out at the moon and all the stars that were speckled around it. 

Anna’s hand touched my shoulder and she leaned into me, kissing my head. “I miss her too Cassie. Death is a part of life. We will move on from this, but we will never forget mom. We will all be reunited some day.” She picked me up and took me from the room. We went down the hall to Michael’s bedroom where the rest of my siblings were waiting on the bed. That night I slept between Anna and Gabriel, with Michael and Lucifer on the ends. When I woke up the next morning, I found myself in the middle of a giant five-person cuddle. That was routine until we returned to school a month later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Supernatural character Castiel is based on the archangel [Cassiel](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cassiel), found in mythology and the Kabbalah.
> 
> He has "the ability to travel quickly through space", and the use of his name in magic can "create destruction, scatter crowds, cause a person to wander aimlessly, or fall from a position of power." He is also "associated with the planet Saturn, direction north, and is the controller of the moon."
> 
> Cas's namesake is a total BAMF.


	7. Fast Forward To The Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I would love nothing better than to play with you Cas.

When my father died, I was given a second chance.

I never played the piano after my mother's was taken. I didn’t know of anyone with a piano that I could play. When I had the opportunity, the painful memories from the past were too much to handle. I didn’t want to touch those ivory keys because I would hear my mother’s voice whispering music into my ear, and then the feeling of that cold, hard slap on my face would spring back into my mind. When I went off to boarding school, there was a piano in the great hall of the student recreation building. It was open for use by students, as long as they respected the instrument and were appropriate in their performances. I avoided the sight and sounds whenever I was in the building. I was in fear of the past pleasures because of my father. 

I received the news in a letter, which was joined with a release form that excused me from classes so I could attend his funeral. I cried after reading the letter, but only slightly out of sadness – most was relief. He was buried a week later. I went home the day before the funeral, and left the day after. I was a comfort to my siblings. None of them asked about how I felt about his death. It was clear from my lack of sadness and my distance at the service where I stood. They didn’t blame me either. I kept to my room the night we returned home from the service, while my siblings gathered downstairs to watch home movies. 

I was laying in my bed, staring out the window at the moon and stars. My head was empty of thoughts. I flicked a glance to the spot in my window where the baseball flew through years earlier. While it was difficult to see the stars due to the city lights and the sun having just dipped beyond the horizon, there was one that was successfully twinkling and sparkling in the dark blue evening sky. It took me a few moments to realize it was a Saturday and it was the same month that held the anniversary of my mother’s passing. As I focused on that star, a familiar tune began whispering into my ear in an ever familiar voice. _Twinkle twinkle little star. How I wonder what you are. Up above the world so high, like a diamond in the sky. Twinkle twinkle little star. How I wonder what you are._ Tears welled up in my eyes. I slowly rose from my bed and stood, moving towards my window to get a better view. 

“Cassiel?” I whispered as I looking out. “I hope you are taking care of my mom.” I looked away for a moment to stare at my bare toes to say, “And dad, I guess.” I looked back to my miracle star. It twinkled a bit in response, but it may have been due to my tears. “I’m so sorry I forgot about you. It won’t happen again.” 

When I went back to school the next day, I immediately went to the piano. No students were around, so I took the opportunity to finally face my fears. I sat down and ran my fingers along the shiny black and white keys, little memories arising from my childhood. As I began to play, my mother’s voice returned, along with my own. We sang together in the grand hall, our voices blending together and rebounding around the room. When I finished, I did not feel the pain I expected. I felt pure joy radiating from deep inside my soul and it came bursting out through my fingers and toes. 

After that, I took an hour out of my evenings to teach myself the piano. Once I graduated, I saw myself to be as good as my mother. I never had the chance to play for others when I returned home, and I never spoke of my talent with my new friends. It became a personal, private activity for me to reconnect with my mother and the gift she had passed on. 

It wasn’t until the memorial held during Thanksgiving in honor of Mary and John Winchester did my gift get shared with others. I didn’t plan on performing for everyone until I arrived to the event with my family. It was being held a few towns over at a dive bar in the middle of no where. Many people attended, which showed how much of an imprint they made during their lives. The owners of the bar, Jo’s mother and step-father, had orchestrated the event to help Dean and Sam know that while their parents were gone, they were not forgotten, and that the Winchester boys still had family. 

While the event was still in the solemn condolence stage, aka when everyone was still reasonably sober, I discovered an old black piano hiding in the corner with a dim light hanging above it. I walked over to it and gave a few of the keys a few taps to check the sound, and it was fair enough for its condition and location. I took a seat at the dusty bench and ran a few scales. When I was satisfied the piano wasn’t going to crumble under the stress of not being played after a few millennia, I started with a short song. 

“Who the hell is playing chopsticks?” 

I froze, turning my head towards the source of abrupt confusion. I found a few people at the bar, Jo’s parents especially, starring at me in confusion. I blushed and pushed away from the instrument, but the bench gave a loud screech in resistance and only caused more heads to turn my way. My blush grew in intensity. 

“That thing hasn’t been touched since Jo’s dad took off when she was 5,” the woman, Ellen, continued. “I’m amazed it still sounds like a piano.” 

“That’s because I just had it tuned for the occasion,” the man next to her, Bobby, muttered out around a mouthful of food. He received a slap to the back of his head from his wife for his rude manners. 

I cut in before their bickering could go any further. “I’m sorry!” I quickly stood from the bench without moving it along the floor. “I didn’t know it was… I’ll leave it alone now.” 

“I didn’t say stop boy,” Ellen snapped. “This party can use some good entertainment. Just play something I bit more…” 

“Something that isn’t bloody chopsticks!” A man, who I could have sworn was just at the bar several feet away, pushed me back onto the bench. “And no classical. I hear that enough back home.” The man had a British accent and short figure, with black hair and a suit that made him look out of place. 

“Fergus, leave the kid alone!” Bobby yelled. 

“Just saying,” he mumbled, walking away from me and back to his seat at the bar. 

The blush continued to swarm my face in a fierce intensity when I found everyone in the bar staring at me, waiting for me to play something. I immediately froze with my fingers above the keys, my mind having gone blank of all the music I had learned over the past few years. The only song that would come to mind was the first song I ever learned – thankfully I knew a more advanced version. I gained my bearings and began to play, softly at first. After a quick yell from behind me to, “Turn it up! Some of us are old ya know,” I began to play with more confidence and less resistance. I received a loud round of applause after I finished, and it encouraged me to jump into another song that had returned to my memory. After ten minutes of performing several songs, I stood up from the piano and took a bow to my roaring fans. I moved myself to a stool at the corner of the bar to relieve my body of the stress from the lime light. It came back when I was surrounded by my siblings and friends. 

“Where the hell did that come from?” Michael said, patting my shoulder. 

Lucifer ruffled my hair. “I haven’t heard piano that good since mom.” 

“I am so proud of you!” Anna cheered as she gave me a fierce hug from the side. 

Gabriel punched my shoulder and shoved an alcoholic beverage in my face. “Here, drink this. You deserve it, Mr. I-don’t-do-anything-in-front-of-large-crowds.” I took the drink and tossed it back into my mouth quickly, nearly choking as it burned down my throat. Gabriel patted my back hard with a smirk on his face. “Now you’re a real man,” he said as he shot his own drink back without flinching. 

I was handed a glass of water by Sam which I gratefully accepted. “You play piano just as good as Dean plays guitar!” 

I nearly choked on my water. "Your brother knows music?" I eyed Sam with a look of disbelief. 

Dean appeared suddenly in front of me from behind the bar. “I’m full of surprises, just like you!” 

I nearly spilled my water all over his shirt. He grabbed my hand to steady the glass, giving me a light chuckle. My blush returned as he kept his hands on mine. “If you are as good as Sam says,” I stated after I stabilized and removed myself from Dean's touch, “Why don’t you give a little show?” I threw him an evil smirk. 

Dean raised an eyebrow at me. “Where am I going to find a guitar?” Like a genie, Bobby appeared holding the requested item. He smiled as Dean reluctantly took it and moved from the bar area to the stool being placed out in the open by his brother. 

“Bitch,” he muttered as he took his seat. 

“Jerk,” Sam replied as he went to stand next to me. With a heavy glare aimed at Sam and I, Dean adjusted the strings on the guitar and began to play. A couple of them I was sure were classic rock songs. He received quite a loud response from the crowd. Once his ten minutes of fame were over, he took a small bow and returned the stool to the bar with a smirk on his face. I couldn’t hold back my own smile as he set the guitar down and sat next to me. 

“Okay, so I guess you do have a useful talent.” 

Dean snorted in defiance. “Mister, I was fucking Johnny Cash out there.” 

“I wouldn’t take it that far,” Bobby grunted as he took the guitar and placed it back into its case. “But I do say that your dad taught you good.” 

“You learned from your dad?” I asked in surprise. _Weird that we both learned from a parent._

Dean looked at me with pride and a bit of sadness on his face. “Yeah. It was the guitar that got my mom to go on a date with him.” I chuckled. I could picture John outside Mary’s bedroom window when they were teenagers, holding a rose in his mouth and playing a Johnny Cash song while Mary leaned out her window with a look of embarrassment and astonishment. 

Dean’s voice pulled me back to the present. “Where did you learn piano, Cas?” 

I ran a hand through my hair. “I was introduced to it by my mom before she died, but didn’t get back into until boarding school.” I remembered the night I rediscovered Cassiel’s star, and it brought a warm smile to my face. Dean must have picked up on it and he put a hand on my shoulder, bringing my attention back to him. He gave me a warm smile of his own, and I could feel the heat return to my cheeks. I looked away quickly before he noticed. _Damn you, Winchester._

Ellen walked over to us and placed two sodas and a plate of nachos in front of us. Dean immediately dug into the nachos. I took a sip of my drink, ogling Dean’s mouth as he licked his fingers clean of cheese. 

Ellen’s voice sprung me from my lusting in a sudden jerk. “Since you two are so talented, why don’t you play something together?” 

I eyed Dean and found a similar stunned reaction of horrendous coughing around a chip that had the unfortunate luck of being chewed before the question. “Um…” I stuttered and patted Dean’s back to ease his spasms. “I don’t… uh… we haven’t–” 

“Oh, don’t be such drama queens.” Ellen put the guitar case onto the bar. “Finish your food then get your asses over to the piano, or I’m gonna make you clean up the bar after the party.” 

Dean grumbled something about child slave work when he regained his breath, but didn’t fight the matter further. I finished my drink and helped Dean with the plate of nachos. I cleaned my hands on my jeans and walked over to the piano. I took a seat at the bench and waited for Dean to appear next to the piano with a stool and guitar. When he was seated and adjusting the guitar strings, out of habit I assumed, I heard a cheer from behind us that sounded like Anna and Sam. 

Dean grumbled something under his breath and I kicked his leg, bringing his focus to me. “You don’t have to do this Dean, you know that.” A part of me dreaded an agreement and withdrawal from performing, but he only shook his head and moved the guitar around in his lap. 

Dean looked me in the eyes when he said, “I would love nothing better than to play with you Cas.” It was a sincere statement that came out from a genuine smile. It made me respond in kind. I hadn’t been that happy since I first heard Dean call me his best friend. 

I also hadn’t enjoyed playing the piano so much since my mother.


	8. Kingdom For Duct Tape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I get that a lot can go wrong, but if we stick together and trust in each other, I think it could work for us.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the forever wait on an update! Life is... well, life, and despite what my father says about getting yourself to write, sometimes it is really hard. Hope you enjoy! (One more chapter until we get to the present.)

I was drunk when Fergus, aka Crowley, proposed a life changer. Dean wasn’t, but Gabriel, Sam (who was sneaking sips from Gabriel, who willingly turning the other way), Anna, and Jo were. It was after the memorial party at The Roadhouse. Mostly everyone left and the place was being picked up by my eldest brothers and the owners, while us youngins were sneaking booze in the kitchen. We were not subtle about it – all of us were stumbling around, crashing into cabinets and giggling loudly. Since Dean wasn’t touching the stuff, the legal adults let us be stupid for that one night.

Crowley found me when I left to use the bathroom. I was in the process of releaving my bladder when the man came into the room to use the urinal next to me. He didn’t immediately start up a conversation, politley waiting until my equipment was back in storage and I was at the sink washing my hands in a lazy drunken rythum.

“Damn good piano playing back there.”

I fumbled with the bar of soap. “Thanks. Good… um, poker facing?” (It should be law that I cannot communicate with strangers while drunk.)

“How many have you had tonight?”

“Does the type count? ‘Cause I trying all the pretty colors.”

I heard a zipper and a flush. I looked up into the mirror and jumped when I found Crowley standing next to me. The soap shot into the air and I fubled to catch it before it landed on the floor. He caught it for me, lathering his hands.

“You interested in a career in music?”

“I was gonna be an art major, but after Dean’s parents died I had to rethink it.”

“Good thing, too. Art won’t get you far in life, just a teaching job somewhere. You’d have to jump back in time if you wanted something good in the art world.” I started rinceing my hands off. “You’d do well in music.”

“What do you mean?”

“A band, dummy. What else would I mean?”

My brain froze to process what he just said. _A band? Me? Like singing and dancing and fans and flashing lights?_ “That would never happen.”

“Probably, but fate is on your side. I happen to work in the music business and could easily land you and Dean a spot.”

 _Wait, me and who?_ “Uh…”

Dean burst into the bathroom just then. “Cas! You okay man? You fall in or somethin’?” _Fate sure is on my side._

“Ah! Just the man I wanted to see. Want to be in a band?”

Dean blinked at Crowley, looking back and forth between us. I continued to wash my hands to avoid the mind boggling idea of Dean and I on stage, together, singing and sweating and dancing and sweating and lights and dancing and sweating. I gained an erection rather fast and in my drunken state I wasn’t responsive enough to attempt to cover it up.

“You have got to be joking.”

“I’m not a trickster, I can assure you. I am a record producer and band manager who recently started his own company. If it wasn’t for your dad all those years ago introducing me to the right people I would never have found my true calling.”

“I was wondering how a foreigner knew my dad,” Dean said in a condensending way.

Crowley’s face flickered anger, but he quickly regained his composure. “I’ll ignore that, for your sake. I found your guitar skills superb, and your friend Castiel here is an excellent pianist.”

I snickered. “Totally know my way around a pianist.” (More proof of my dangerous mouth while drunk.)

Dean gave me a look of humerous horror before looking back at Crowley with a confused one. “Are you saying you want me and Cas to do a duo thing? Me guitar and him piano?”

“You’re not as dumb as you look.”

“I’ll ignore that, for your sake.”

“Burn!” I said, finally done washing my hands. I stumbled to the blow dryer.

“Maybe I should come back when he is in a more balanced state.” Crowley pointed at me and I grinned at him, slumping against the wall and rubbing my hands together under the cold air spitting out of the rusted machine.

“Look, dude, we don’t-”

“Here is my number. I’m staying here for the next few days. I’ll drop by Castiel’s house on my way out of town if I don’t hear from either of you before hand.” Crowley slips his business card into my front coat pocket. “Do think on this. Chances like this only come in a blue moon.” He walked to the bathroom door and pushed it open. “I look forward to hearing from you.” With that, he left the bathroom and then the bar through the back exit – I could hear the door slam shut and a car’s engine roaring to life.

I walked over to Dean and slung an arm around his waist, resting my head on his shoulder. I looked at our figures in the mirror – I had a flushed face and a grin plastered on, while Dean looked lost in thought with a firm frown on his forehead.

“Shall we return to our abode?” I said, in a terrible English accent.

Dean snorted. “Cas, you’re drunk.”

“And you’re a… a, uh… um, what’s the word?”

“Stop talking.”

“Sexy! That’s it.” I laughed, slipping my head off his shoulder and pressing my forehead against the mirror glass. “I can’t remember the rest of my statement though.”

“I’m taking you home now.”

He dragged me out of the bathroom with an arm around my shoulders. “Sure thing, Sherlock.” I stopped moving with him, making him abruptly stop and yank me close to him. I stumbled and bumped into his chest, breathing hot liquored air into his face. He looked disgusted.

“Cas, don’t breath in my face.”

“I wuvs you Deanie,” I mumbled, pressing my forehead against his right cheek. He pulled away from me, but I moved with him. “Marry me.”

“Never mix drinks again buddy!”

I don’t remember the rest of the evening. Only faded memories of me in the front seat of his car, head against Dean’s shoulder as he drove with a snoring Sam next to me. I think my hands were in places they shouldn’t have been and Dean either ignored it or removed my wandering fingers. I kept thinking I felt a lump at one point – not just the usual lump, but a firm bulging one. It may have been my own, but I want to think it was Dean’s. He couldn’t look me in the eye as he took me upstairs and tucked me into bed fully clothed. His eyes, mixed with vairous emotions, were the last things I saw before passing out.

I woke up with the worst pain I have ever felt shooting through my head and body. It almost didn’t compare to the pain of loss. Thankfully, a note with instructions on how to relieve myself of my hangover was resting on the nightstand, alongside a bottle of pain killers and luke warm coffee. _Must have been Dean, since he didn’t get drunk last night. Probably left notes in everyone’s room._ I followed the plans precisley – after downing the pills with the coffee, I took a hot shower. I was in there for almost an hour. I only got out when someone began pounding on the door, saying they needed some hot water too. It sounded like Anna. _Right – she can be a bitch in the mornings, expecially when hungover._

Once downstairs, I found Dean in the kitchen cooking breakfast. I checked the clock on the microwave – more like brunch. I sat down at the island countertop and watched him as he moved about in the kitchen. (He is very graceful when he does things he enjoys.)

“Morning, Cas.”

“Mornin’.” My voice was gravely, but I was still too hungover to attempt to clear my throat.

“Food should be ready soon. Just need to make the batter for the french toast and get them going in the pan.”

“I don’t deserve your kindness.”

“Consider it curtisey for you dealing with my hangovers.”

“Well, thank you then. But I wasn’t exactly the best mate to deal with last night.”

“You remember?”

“Sort of. The coversation with Crowley, the car ride – did I fondle you?”

Dean froze, for just a second, before letting out a chuckle. “Nothing I couldn’t handle.”

“I hope I didn’t say anything too incriminating.”

“Like what?”

“I said something about marriage, didn’t I?”

Again, Dean froze before continuing to cook. “Yeah… You were just drunk, Cas. Don’t worry about it.”

“Yeah, guess your right.” (This is one of many points in time in which I should have pressed further, but I didn’t – I am a fool.)

Sam stumbled into the kitchen, carefully leaning himself against stable objects to get himself in the chair next to me. He must have left his cane in his room – he was never the stable morning walker anyways.

“Dean, I do hope you have fruit.”

“Hell no! Best cure for a hangover is greasy foods, like bacon and sausage. You will be grateful in about an hour or so.”

“But my colon won’t be.” Sam reached for a banana and began to peel it. “So, what is with the business card from Crowley I found in the bathroom trash?”

“What?” I turned to look at him. “That was put into my pocket… I think.”

“About that,” Dean mumbles, turning to face me. “I may have taken it out when I put you to bed last night.”

“Why would you throw it away?”

“Because it is a stupid idea.”

“What’s a stupid idea?” Sam asks with his mouth full of banana.

“Nothing, Sammy,” Dean warned.

“Don’t call me Sammy!” Sam, and I, winced at the loudness. “Sorry Cas.”

“It's fine. But seriously Dean, why would us going into music be a bad idea?”

“It just is.” I gave Dean my ‘don’t give me your bullshit’ look until he spit it out. “It's just… too perfect.”

“How?” Mumbled Sam.

“If it's too perfect, it's not true.”

“Dean,” I said, waiting for him to look at me, which took some repetition. “I get that a lot can go wrong, but if we stick together and trust in each other, I think it could work for us.”

Dean watched my face. I could see different emotions flickering in his eyes, no doubt as he thought about the event that triggered the past few months of grief. When he came over to the island to set down plates of food, I reached out and grabbed his hand. He froze again.

“Please Dean? We only have to take it one step at a time. If your dad trusted Crowley, I think we can too.”

Dean looked at our hands, and before pulling away, he squeezed my hand and gave me a warm smile. “I guess… but let’s talk about it more later. For now, you guys need some grease.”

Sam gagged on his banana.


End file.
